


Building A Fortress With This Flannel

by gala_apples



Category: Glee
Genre: Blow Jobs, Infidelity, M/M, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 00:31:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1284514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn doesn't expect to wake up on top of Puck. Puck doesn't expect to be woken up by someone getting on top of him. One of them handles it better than the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Building A Fortress With This Flannel

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [untitled blanket fort art](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/39415) by kiden. 



> Written for Pinn Week, run by the lovely kiden.
> 
> Set somewhere towards the end of season three, but no specific episode tags.

Any second now Finn is going to get smote. Lightning is going to spontaneously develop in the sky, make it through the second and first floor to slice through the basement and blaze him to ash. Not Kurt, who’s definitely gay, but completely innocent and virginal. Not Blaine, who’s gay, and who Finn’s not actually sure of the sexual status of, but is at least currently abstaining, because of the previously mentioned innocent Kurt thing. It will definitely, _definitely_ be him, because it takes a really bad sort of person to wake up humping another guy in a house of worship.

Okay, maybe not a literal house of worship. Since that’s, like, a nickname for a church. But he and everyone else are having a sleepover in Joe’s basement, because Mr and Mrs Hart think that that’s something that sixteen and seventeen year old guys do, and if they want to stay on Joe’s parents good side they have to make an effort. And it’s definitely a three story house that’s full to the brim with worship. There’s a cross in every room. The hand towels in the bathroom had cross embroidery, and Finn had to dry his hands on his pants because it felt sacrilegious to use them.

It’s not like he’s doing this because Joe’s family is awful and deserves it. They’re not. 

Everyone came in at the tail end of dinner -Finn, Sam, Rory, Kurt and Blaine in Kurt’s car, Puck, Mike and Artie in Artie’s mom’s van- and Mrs Hart asked if they wanted to join the the table, saying that everything was kosher because Joe had told her that Puck was Jewish. Finn’s seen Puck eat bacon like seven thousand times, but it was still considerate, and way more than what happens at his own house, where Mom’s only system is to say _eat any leftovers at your own risk_. And halfway through the night Mrs Hart called all of them upstairs. Finn had figured they were probably going to get yelled at for being loud, but instead there were four trays of still hot cookies on the counter.

And it wasn’t just Mrs Hart being awesome, rocking the mom gene. Joe’s little sister was all over Sam. Not everyone likes kids, but Finn knows Sam misses Stacey and Stevie more than anything, so it was great random luck that that’s who Hannah went for. It was good to see him laughing. Joe’s dad was cool too. Mr Hart helped Mike carry Artie down the stairs, and apologised about fifty times about their house being inaccessible. 

Most importantly, nobody gave Kurt any shit. Finn could understand Joe not bringing up Kurt and Blaine’s orientations, the same way that he probably wouldn’t tell Mr and Mrs Hart that Puck has a kid or Sam was a stripper. Sometimes it’s just easier to not say anything. Still, Finn’s pretty sure it’s not homophobic to say you only have to look at Kurt to know. But if they already knew, or if they saw it when they took in Kurt’s pinstripe pants and silver jacket and green houndstooth shirt -because apparently mixing patterns is in this season, or something, Finn only listens, he doesn’t claim to understand- they didn’t do anything awkward like offering to pray, so Finn didn’t have to do anything like storm out in brotherly solidarity. Kurt kept his aggressive atheist comments inside too, so everything stayed drama free.

Nor is he doing this to give himself a thrill, a bit of recklessness to even out a boring night. Sure, every movie the Harts own is pg13 or lower, but that covers a surprisingly large field of movies. The Ring is pg horror, Jaws is pg horror, Night At The Museum is pg comedy, and Bruce Almighty and Evan Almighty are religious comedies. Finn didn’t even know that was a genre, but there was no denying the humor. Even Kurt laughed at Steve Carroll’s three piece suit exploding into a nasty robe and sandals mid speech.

So it was a good night, but now it’s a horrible dawn because his body is being crazy for _absolutely no reason_. Not only is Finn out of his sleeping bag, without having any memory of sleepwalking. Not only is he wearing just the long sleeved shirt he came to the house in, and boxers, which when added to the cool basement air means his legs are covered in goosebumps. Not only is Finn actually half on top of the next sleeping bag over, which happens to be Puck’s. Not only has he apparently rutted against Puck until he came, because there’s a wet load smeared on the front of his boxers. On top of all of that, the whole ‘having orgasms in a family home even more religious than Quinn’s’ thing, Puck is awake.

Finn’s frozen, half on top of Puck, chin to chin with his twisted head. He knows he should really get off of him before Puck either punches him in the face -understandable- or God smotes him down -also understandable, but not fair to get Puck caught in the mix- but he can’t move.

“You awake now?” Puck whispers.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” Finn answers at normal volume.

“Let’s go talk,” Puck suggests, hand already working the zipper of his sleeping bag. Finn’s laying on the non-zipper side, so he’s able to get it all the way open. Then he’s standing and Finn’s carefully not looking up the loose legs of Puck’s Cartman boxers because purposely staring at a guy’s balls is a sure ticket to Punchville. Finn doesn’t move until Puck’s grabbing his wrist and practically heaving him up.

Puck doesn’t let go until they’re in Joe’s living room. “Sit down,” he says, gesturing to the couch.

“I can’t. I-” Finn waves his hands wildly. “It was an accident, and. But. It’s their family couch!”

“Stop yelling. Stop hyperventilating. I’ll be right back. If you can’t sit down, don’t move.” Puck disappears for a minute and comes back with something grey in hand. “Put these on. They’re sweats, from Joe’s room.”

Finn looks at the offered fabric, and hesitates.

“Come on man. I’ve seen your dick before, and it doesn’t radiate evil that will soak into the Hart’s living room. We gotta talk and apparently you can’t until you change, so calm your shit down, and change.”

Finn changes. The sweats are really short on him, the elastic hem on the leg lands just under his knee. Still, they’re dry and warm, which makes them better than his boxers in two ways. Then he sits down, because that was the first thing on Puck’s list, before Finn got incompetent about even that.

“Good. Now you tell me if you woke up before or after you came. And if you liked it. And if you’d want to- You’re hyperventilating again.”

Yeah, Finn probably is hyperventilating. It sounds like something he’d do. “I don’t think I can talk about this. There’s judgement everywhere. I can feel it everywhere.”

“Well, we can’t go outside. It’s March. And we can’t go to Kurt’s car because his keys are on him, and if I feel him up in his sleep trying to find them and he wakes up he and his boyfriend will both gut me like a pig. And we _are_ talking about this. So... Hmm. Give me two seconds.”

Finn doesn’t really have any choice. He sits on the couch silently and tries to not think about the answers to the questions Puck’s asked. 

This time when Puck comes back into the living room he’s got armfuls of fabric. It only takes until Puck drapes the first blanket, a green striped one, over the back of the worn brown couch for Finn to know what he’s doing. He dips into the pile of blankets and adds his own while Puck shores the walls with the couch cushions, and by the time they’re done it’s a blanket fort of grand proportions. And absolutely none of it feels judgemental.

“Okay, let’s try this again,” Puck says when they’re both safely underneath. It’s a bit of a tight fit, Finn’s shoulders are propped against a few spare pillows, and Puck is squeezed between the couch/wall and Finn, but it’s tight in a nice way. In a he-doesn’t-feel-guilty-about-having-so-much-contact-with-Puck way.

“Okay?”

“Oh good, you actually managed to answer me this time.”

Finn gestures to the soft walls. They speak his point for him. No one can feel freaked out in a blanket fort with their best friend, even if they did just accidentally molest said best friend.

“So, how much of that were you aware of, and how much of it did you like?”

“I kind of went from asleep to two microseconds of nice afterglow feeling to crippling shame and horror. Because, you know, it’s not like you asked to have me all up on you.”

Puck tilts his head. “But that implies if I’d given consent there would have been no horror, and significantly less shame?”

“I. Uh. Maybe? I mean I never really thought that consent was an option. Uh, not that no consent was an option, that wasn’t what I meant, I’d never-”

Puck stops him with two fingers over his lips. “I’m gonna try a thing. And if you don’t like it say no, and I’ll stop and do my best to like, reverse time, to have never done it. But if you do like it, assume that everything is cool, okay?”

Maybe Finn’s stupid, but he doesn’t realise what’s going to happen until the second it does. If he was more experienced maybe the outcome would seem obvious, but as it is Finn’s pretty much mindblown when Puck tugs down his borrowed sweatpants and puts his mouth on Finn’s dick. 

It’s literally the most amazing thing Finn has ever faced in his life. It’s incomparable to anything he’s ever done before. He can’t exactly reach back and grab the headboard so he claws as the carpet and hopes to last just long enough that Puck doesn’t laugh at him. It’s incredibly difficult. He can’t call on the mailman, or Coach Bieste in lingerie, or even a disapproving stare from a portrait of Jesus. Not into this place that’s only soft, and warm, and Puck, and glorious tongue action on the slit of his dick.

Puck doesn’t make fun of him and his predictably early release. He just says something ridiculously obvious. “You liked that.”

“I have multiple answers, and I don’t know what you want.”

“Tell me them all then. Let me pick.”

Finn sighs. “Okay. One; a blowjob is a blowjob. Who doesn’t like blowjobs? Two; I’ve had exactly seven before this because Rachel said it wasn’t intercourse. Three; you seemed more into it than Rachel ever is. Four; not to mention I liked that it was coming from you. Five; and now I’m wondering if I liked the blowjob or I liked you. Six; but this was cheating on Rachel, which means I did it again, how does every relationship _go_ like this? Seven; and I kinda feel like I owe Kurt apologies all over again for sophomore year.”

Puck shrugs and wipes his mouth again. Finn is sure he got all the come the first time, but maybe compulsive wiping is a thing you do after giving a blowjob. “Well, if you wanna see if dick is an option for you too, blow me back.”

Finn doesn’t blow him immediately, which is probably not what Puck’s looking for, but Finn has to know. “You said ‘too’. Do you mean _you_ too, or rest of the dick loving world too?”

Puck smirks. “I said it was cool. I liked it. What I’d like even more is some reciprocation. So can you make that happen, or do I have to go door to door down this street looking for someone to blow me?”

“Of any gender?”

Puck rolls his eyes, then half pins Finn with his right arm. Finn can’t help but cup his elbow, the touch is instinctual. “Yes. We’ve been over this like a dozen times.”

“I dunno, say it one more time.”

“I want your dick forever and ever.” The tone is pure sarcasm, but Finn’s known his best friend long enough to be able to tell between different types of sarcastic-Puck, and this type is the one that hides emotional sincerity. If Puck’s using it to say that, that means he actually _does_ want Finn forever and ever.

“Awesome.”


End file.
